person Laura Del Col Brown, three poems

Originally from West Virginia, but now living in London and working for a bat conservation charity, Laura Del Col Brown is a writer whose work has appeared in the publications Crannóg, Maudlin House, and Poor Yorick Journal as well as in the UK-based Poem Flyer project.



In the exhibition
Where my father had planned to go
Warm-blooded shadows
And slices of faces
Took space as completion.


In the Kafka Museum

A report spreads its pages
To receive its true meaning;
So think those
With non-detachable fingers.

Ten lines of pain
Have been pinned under glass.
We lean through a century —
Your son will live forever
Then straighten up
Lest they ask after daughters.

A jackdaw calls
From time to time.


The Same Province of Nothingness

Although I know
              that humans lived and died
              long before anybody
              thought to plant a garden
And though I know
              that pearly gates would shimmer
              with the agony
              of a million violated oysters
And though I know
              the brain pours out comfort
              to lighten its load
              before handing itself in for scrap
And though I know
              the most beautiful of vases
              only seems to fill the space
              between our glare and oblivion’s

And though I know
              what people will say

Yet still I feel
              that you and I will go
              to the same province of nothingness
              and that the hum of eternity
              will sound a little different for our chord